


Pumping Water

by amazinglyhorribleegg



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Biocomponents (Detroit: Become Human), Canon-Typical Violence, Confusing, Dissociation, Gen, Guilt, Hurt Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Junkyard (Detroit: Become Human), Out of Body Experiences, POV Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protests, Storms, Thirium (Detroit: Become Human), Triggers, Violence, Virus, Weirdness, merciless sun god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 18:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazinglyhorribleegg/pseuds/amazinglyhorribleegg
Summary: "Humans liked fighting. They liked bloodshed. They refused to meet eye-to-eye, instead trying to prove themselves stronger in a one-sided battle.They weren't fighting back, they were just defending themselves."-Markus comes back from a protest-gone-wrong in the middle of a storm and dissociates. Post golden-ending. It doesn't make sense for Markus or for the reader.





	Pumping Water

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in forever - and this is the first D:BH story I'm posting on here! I hope ya'll love Markus as much as I do!

He thought the fighting was over.

The exhaustion, the fear, the bloodshed of either colour. Looking into his friends eyes and not knowing if that'd be the last time they shone that way. Not knowing if he was making the right decision.

He was never making the right decision.

Humans liked fighting. They liked bloodshed. They refused to meet eye-to-eye, instead trying to prove themselves stronger in a one-sided battle.

They weren't fighting back, they were just defending themselves.

Markus wasn't expecting confrontation today, but when the protests went south he came back to New Jericho thankful that all his friends made it out alive.

Some of the others didn't.

Their bodies were left there on the street as they shut down. The nameless androids that weren't really nameless - they had lives, they had individual thoughts, they had feelings - had to watch as the others fled.

Markus closed his eyes and attempted to resurface the pictures of the streets, see if he could name any of the androids that died.

The rain pelted down harder. The others had already gone in, hiding from the storm, helping the injured and comforting the scared.

A loud rumble of thunder opened Markus's eyes.

They hurt.

His new eye never quite fit properly. It worked, sure, but sometimes it refused to agree with him. It would sting and burn and ache, leaving him covering it with his hands.

Now, Markus wondered why he'd do that.

Really, if it hurt, he just had to stop it from hurting. Putting his hands in front of his face was a defence mechanism... it wouldn't do anything if the thing he was defending was the attacker.

Yes, he was being attacked by his eye. It was a threat. The junkyard must have put a virus in it.

Josh had asked if he wanted a new eye back a while ago, but he said no. Now, it all made sense. The virus would have also gone into that new eye, obviously. He wasn't sure why he didn't mention it to Josh before - warned him, in case any other androids tried it.

Androids. Androids. So many. Talking, talking, talking, TALKING why were they so loud? So dizzy, bouncy balls, bouncing off each other. So many bleeding, crying, doing things. It was the virus.

The virus, yes.

The junkyard gave him the virus.

In his leg.

Yes, his left leg. That one had the virus in it. Not his hair - why would his hair have a virus in it? And why would Josh try to replace his hair? None of this made any sense - it was his leg.

He had to remove his leg.

The bleeding would stop pretty fast, as the natural clotting would kick in for removal of parts. But not fast enough. He'd have to put a tourniquet over his leg. He didn't want to bleed into the storm.

The storm was very loud - it was threatening. It would kill him if he didn't take off the leg. It would spread the virus. But if he took off the leg the storm would pull out the virus. Of course.

He took off his jacket and wrapped the arms around his left leg, tying them together. Then he pulled it off, twisting and allowing his boy to eject it.

He fell down.

Oh, of course, the virus sucked out his energy. He couldn't walk with no energy. He'd have to crawl.

Just like in the junkyard. He would crawl to his bed in New Jericho and fall asleep just like a human and he'd wake up and be free.

They'd all be free.

That was it - his leg had been keeping them all hostage. Good thing he took his leg off so they could be free.

Maybe he'd show it to North.  
Yes, he'd have to get them to believe that he really took off his leg. Otherwise they may call him a liar. They'd say the storm did it.

He grabbed his leg and started to crawl. He had to prop himself up to open the doors, but it was alright.

The floor in Jericho felt numb. It felt soft and hard and really nothing at all. It was because of his leg. The floor was deceiving them with how it felt and now by freeing himself the floor was showing it' true identity, it's true feeling of cold and soft and hard and numb.

It felt strange. Sure, he could get used to it. It would be easy once they were all free. They could wear shoes while they were free so the floor wouldn't feel weird. Wasn't he wearing shoes now?  
Markus looked down at his right leg, still attached. Yes, he was wearing shoes. It was illegal. They could wear shoes but it was illegal and they were fighting for their right to wear shoes legally so they wouldn't have to feel the strange floor once they were free.

He made it to the door of his room and looked up at the numbers painted on. Painted with metal. Numbers on the door painted and tied in with screws but they'd fall on him if he tried to walk under them. They'd fall and hit his head and that wouldn't be good. He'd die. Is he dead?

He felt dead. But he wasn't. If he was dead he wouldn't be worried about the numbers making him dead. No, the world around him was dead. The numbers were dead, the door was dead, the floor was dead, the...

Numbers.

He had to lean back far enough so the numbers wouldn't fall on him. Then he had to wave his hand under so the numbers would think he was tricking them. Then he could open the door.

He did it.

He crawled into his room and closed the door behind him - he didn't want North, Josh and Simon to see what he was doing before he was done.

What was he doing?  
He had a project. He had something he needed to do. To make for them. Like a card. But not. What was it?

It had to be something. He was thinking of something - what was he thinking of?

Numbers falling? The numbers were falling from the ceiling. They were falling from the ceiling like rain in a storm like androids falling upwards away from the floor because it felt like Jell-O but

No.

What was he thinking of?

What was he even going on about?  
It all made sense a moment ago. Was the floor really strange?

He went to stand up to check it out when -

He was missing a leg.

Where the fuck did his leg go?  
Jesus Christ RA9 what the fuck.

How the fuck did he lose a leg?

Uhhhhhh

No,

That wasn't right.

What the fuck happened?

He was suddenly aware of his existence, every single molecule. His artificial lungs filled and deflated, his thirium pump moved blood to every part of his body, his skin melted on comfortably.

He was real. He was there. Everything was real and there was nothing he could do about it.

It didn't generally make him feel bad, knowing that everything existed, it was just... uncomfortable being aware of it.

It was all there and moving and it was almost like those pictures on the internet that said "Now you are breathing manually."

He asked Carl what it meant and he said that humans breathe automatically, so to be reminded they start to breathe manually, and it makes them feel weird.

Maybe this was the android version of that.

A knock on the door jolted everything in him to the side - but not really, but yes really.

"Markus? You in here?"

It was Simon. His voice was loud, verging on too loud but it was really too quiet. Everything was off balance.

"Uhh, Simon?"  
"Yeah?"

"I lost my leg."

"Wh - You lost your leg?"  
"Yeah."

"How?"  
"I'm not sure." Markus felt like Manually Breathing again. It came in waves. "I think I dropped it." There was silence. "Simon?"

"Yeah?"

"You can come in." Markus wondered if Simon was waiting for direct consent to walk in.

The door handle jingled and nothing happened. "The door's locked, Markus."

"Oh." Markus blinked at himself, wondering how that happened. "I'll fix that."

Markus scooted himself across the floor and managed to pull himself up enough to unlock the door. He scooted back as Simon opened it.

"You are missing a leg." Simon said bluntly.

"I think I gave it to the sun God." Markus explained.

"What?"

Markus shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think I went from outside to my room. Do you mind checking to see if I dropped it?"

Simon left and Markus sat there, feeling the room move as if it was pumping blood. Pumping water - no, don't go down that thought-hole. Simon will be back soon. Simon settles the water pump.

He came back holding a white leg and handed it to Markus. "I found it near the door." He explained. Markus rearranged himself so he could put his leg back in. "Do you need help with that?" Simon asked.

"No, no, I've got it." Markus said distractedly, locking his leg back into place and accepting it. He got up slowly, making sure it was in right, before sitting down on his bed. "Thanks, Si. Did you need anything?"

Simon stared at Markus for a moment and Markus cocked his head quizzically. Simon squinted his eyes. "Do you mind telling me how you managed to lose your leg in the hallway?"

"Not entirely sure. I think I blacked out."

There was a long moment of silence, then Markus said, "I'm tired."

Simon smiled half-awkward half-concerned, patting Markus on the back. "Get some rest. We'll worry about the details in the morning."

By the time Simon left the room Markus was already fast asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Most of this will probably be inaccurate to irl dissociation, I'm sorry. I don't experience that nor do i know anybody who does. In fact, I was really lazy with researching this.  
That being said, if any of this offends or makes you uncomfortable in any way, let me know! I will be happy to learn from my mistakes!


End file.
